


Sunset Kisses

by Ivyfics (ivannab)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Also known as Akaashi’s journey of self discovery, Blowjobs, First Times, Getting Together, How many getting together fics are there going to be in kinktober? Who knows, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Trans Akaashi Keiji, facesitting, hes got so many kinks he doesnt know of, ish, itsy bit of frottage, minimal amount of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 11:45:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12275808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivannab/pseuds/Ivyfics
Summary: “Bokuto-san.” Bokuto’s face does the thing where he’s irritated Keiji won’t drop the -san. It’s adorable.Keiji wets his lips, tongue darting out, building up the words in his head. He wants it to come out firm but instead what he gets is, “Spank me?”Kinktober #3: Spanking/Facesitting.





	Sunset Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I'm a bit nervous about posting this.  
> I tried my best(?) with portraying trans Akaashi, but if there's anything here that feels off or anything please let me know so that I can fix it or take it down.  
> I think that's it?

It’s not really a big deal.

The smell of sweat, and boys, and sweaty teenage boys after hours of practicing is nothing new. It’s a smell he grew up with. Humid days, like today, make it worse and the stench has a particularly foul peak today.

It’s...distracting to say the least.

That’s when it happens.

They’re split into teams, practicing side by side and Keiji fumbles, making them lose the point. It’s not routine but Bokuto is the kind of captain that will call you out on being terrible and point out your mistakes while giving you a pat on the back and encouraging you.

Keiji isn’t usually in the receiving spot for it, but Bokuto is almost always a good captain, so he does what he always does when something like that happens. A short swing, a sharp sound. Keiji’s frozen before the resounding sound of his captain’s hand making contact with his ass reaches his ears. “We’ll get the next one ‘Kaashi. Send it to me.”

Keiji nods, miles away.  

Thankfully, they mistake his red cheeks with embarrassment over his mishap instead of the flushing wave of arousal that just slammed into his body.

Goddamn hormones.

* * *

Keiji’s been thinking about it ever since. Maybe it was a fluke, one of those weird hormonal things that happen.

He’s spent several nights analyzing it and decided to leave it at that. If his body could keep up with that, that’d be nice. His feelings for the captain haven’t been a problem until Bokuto had the bright idea to slap his ass.

A sigh pulls from him when he realises his eyes have been tracking Bokuto’s hands instead of the ball for the third time today.

Thankfully, those two coincide more often than not, so he can keep track of the ball and when it sails over high to him, he can send it Bokuto’s way without a problem.

Bokuto jumps and hits a straight, palm slapping the ball forward and slamming it onto the other team’s court.

It’s something they’ve done a thousand times before, even if Bokuto celebrates as if it’s his first time hitting a successful straight every time.  

A human highlight reel, Keiji had called him once. He wasn’t wrong.

You know what he was wrong about? Being over the whole ass slapping thing.

How does he know?

Bokuto does it again, in celebration this time.

He freezes at the shock, sound thundering through him, cock stirring with interest.

Feels himself getting damp.

Keiji wants to remove himself entirely from this and simultaneously scooch over and ask Bokuto to do it again.

* * *

Alright. If there’s one thing Keiji has always been, it’s practical.

Staring at his ceiling, hand sneaked under his boxers after beating off to the thought of Bokuto putting him over his knee and bringing down his han–

Maybe.

Keiji wants Bokuto to spank him.

He can live with that.

If he accepts it, there’s no way it’ll catch him off guard.

Right?

* * *

“‘Kaashi.”

Bokuto breaks him out of the daydream he had fallen in. Again. It’s just him and Bokuto in the changing room, Akaashi usually being the last one in, Bokuto trailing behind him.

“You okay? You’ve been a little weird this week.”

He flattens his shirt over his binder, stuffing his used sports bra in his bag. He looks over, and his eyes stray over Bokuto a little too much, mouth hesitating to answer a little too long. “Yes.”

Not even he buys that and it’s his mouth that said it.

Bokuto grins and he knows he’s been caught. He _knows_.

For some reason people tend to think Bokuto is slow. He’s not. He likes to have fun and to give it his all but he is absolutely always watching, analyzing.

It’s like those nature documentaries Bokuto likes to watch, when the show the hunt, the way broad shoulders lean into him. Bokuto’s only wearing his boxers, towel around his neck where his hair is dripping down.

Voice low, no need for more where they’re this close. “You sure? Been staring a lot.”

Keiji could pretend nothing is wrong and Bokuto would back off. He’d stop pressing his body closer, and move his hand away from where it is next to Keiji’s head. It’s the kind of statement that gives him an out. He could say something, anything, and Bokuto would laugh it off, make everything go back to normal.  

Bokuto’s eyes on him are steady, piercing.

Maybe...

“I like looking at you.”

Bokuto’s eyes go big and he grins, wide and easy.

Maybe he doesn’t want an out.

Maybe he wants Bokuto to come all the way closer with his grin, and those eyes that look at him like he’s prey, and to kiss him senseless.

Maybe he wants Bokuto to spank him.

That’s fine.

Keiji’s never been one to really deny himself things.

It’s almost laughable, to think that he’d be given a sterling chance at a half naked Bokuto subtly promising the same things he’s been thinking about, and that he’d say no.

Ha, no.

Not happening.

Then it’s Bokuto coming impossibly closer to him, grin morphing into a soft smile. “Really?”

Keiji nods, confidence loosening his muscles where they had clamped up. “You’re nice to look at.”

Bokuto looks giddy, like he didn’t actually think this was going to happen. As if Keiji hasn’t been completely obvious in ogling him and spacing out for the last week.

Bokuto leans closer and he smells good, like the shampoo he stole from Keiji last week. He breathes out, “I wanna kiss you. Like a lot, Akaashi, all the time.”

“Then do it.”

Hot breath hits his lips, millimeters away, when suddenly Bokuto’s yanking back from their shared space. “Wait! Not here, I don’t want our first kiss to be in a smelly locker room!”

Laughter bubbles out of him, and Bokuto looks smitten. “Where, then?”

“Come home with me.”

* * *

Their first kiss is not in a smelly locker room, but on the way to Bokuto’s house, on a small bridge when the sun is setting. Both of them are out of breath from Bokuto pulling on Keiji’s hand so that they could get there before the sun was completely gone.

Bokuto being a romantic is not a surprise but it is appreciated when he’s on the receiving end.

Their second kiss is on the same bridge, minutes after.

It’s nice.

So is what they’re doing in Bokuto’s bed right now.

Has Keiji mentioned hormones?

Because both he and Bokuto are full of them and cute sunset kisses are a good start, but Keiji is ready to go. Bokuto seems to be on the same page if the way he’s squeezing his ass where Keiji is straddling him is anything to go by.

It sends a shudder through him.

He’s rubbing himself on Bokuto without thought, place where they’re touching going damp, dick hard. His boxers are a mess and the walk home in them is going to very uncomfortable but it’ll all be worth it for this, for the way Bokuto’s breath picks up, the way his hips come up to crash against Keiji’s.

They don’t go further than that, and that’s fine.

For now.

* * *

Some third year is standing by the gym doors, waving to catch someone’s attention before hollering, “Bokuto, are you staying?”

“Sorry! I’m going home with my boyfriend today,” Bokuto breezes through, unbothered.

There’s a hush of silence louder than the mulling about the team had been doing before. It’s noticeable enough that Keiji looks up from where he’s stretching, practice already done.

Everyone’s staring at him with varying degrees of interest. Some of them look in shock, some other are pretending they’re not looking.

Komi elbows him where he’s pushing on his back and _then_ he gets it.

“I’m the boyfriend,” Keiji says.

There’s a collective sigh of relief and Akaashi snorts, going back into his stretches.

* * *

Somehow, the keep ending up like this.

It’s not a mystery why, Keiji maneuvers them this way, from pushing Bokuto backwards with kisses, to his own hop on the bed, knees going wide outside of Bokuto’s thick thighs.

If he straddles Bokuto–aside from being in a perfectly great position to grind down until they’re both sweaty and panting–in order to keep him steady Bokuto _has_ to bring his arms up to wrap around him. Sometimes they settle on his thighs, or on his hips. Sometimes they hold Keiji still while he’s the one who surges upward.

The last one always makes him hot a little faster, both of them panting into each other’s mouth.

Straddling Bokuto also gives him the benefit of leaving his ass free, something that Bokuto takes advantage of very well. He holds him there, the heat of his hands seeping through the layer of his clothes and under his skin where Bokuto’s hands are spread out over his cheeks. Pinches the meaty part of it and is awarded with a moan Keiji has no way of containing even if he wanted to.

Bokuto does it again, rubbing his hands right after, soothing, and his hands start to trail upwards to his hips again.

It’s now or never, and Keiji’s heart is a hummingbird at the thought of asking out loud.

But..

He really, really wants to.

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto’s face does the thing where he’s irritated Keiji won’t drop the -san. It’s adorable.

Keiji wets his lips, tongue darting out, building up the words in his head. He wants it to come out firm but instead what he gets is, “Spank me?”

Bokuto stares at him. Understanding, like something clicks in his head, and that same smirk from when they were in the locker room. Predatory. “Is that what the staring was?”

Keiji nods, breath hitching when Bokuto’s hands dive back to pat around his cheeks.

“Tell me if it’s too hard,” Bokuto breathes into his ear.

Keiji nods again, bracing himself for the hit but when it does land he’s pulling away to give Bokuto a face. Bokuto has the sense to look chided. “Harder?”

Bokuto gives him no time to retort when his palm is meeting his flesh, like a whip, whatever he was going to say caught in throat and released in a choked gasp. “Like that?”

“Yes,” slithers from Keiji, cunt throbbing, making a mess of his boxers.

Face hidden in Bokuto’s neck, Keiji can’t really see the expression he’s wearing but a quick glimpse out of the corner of his eyes show him a focused Bokuto, corner of his mouth turned up. He looks _amused._

Keiji’s hole clenches down on nothing.

The next slap has his spine shuddering, teeth biting down on Bokuto’s shoulder without thought. Bokuto is taking his time between them, giving Keiji no warning. It keeps him on edge, not helped by the way Bokuto plays with his cheeks in the meantime, kneading them, palming circles over and over until he releases another hit against them, the fabric of his boxers doing absolutely nothing to shield him.

Every new hit is _wonderful,_ Keiji losing it every time Bokuto’s palm connects. Harder than all the previous ones, Keiji moans something broken, hips jutting out.

A shudder racks through Bokuto instead, violent breath leaving him. Keiji pulls back to look at him, dazed, skin tingling from the hits, legs shaky.

Bokuto looks like he’s starving. Parched. Those same eyes bear into his and _beg,_ his mouth echoing it in, “Can I suck you off?”

Keiji’s dumbstruck, mute with the adrenaline pushing him to nod over and over, limbs fumbling to disentangle himself and bring himself out. Lifts himself on his knees to rid himself of his boxers, ends up having to stand to do it before he can settle back where he was. Bokuto doesn’t stay behind, takes the advantage to pull his down his hips halfway, squirming like a fish to untangle them all the way. It’s hilarious and Keiji finds himself laughing lightly, ass sore and sensitive, hard and kneeling over Bokuto on the bed.

Keiji’s eye settle on the apex of Bokuto’s legs. Laughing dies down.

Shockingly, he’s not nervous. All his nervous energy got consumed by telling Bokuto he’d like to be spanked, so now his head is clear.

Bokuto on the other hand….

Red from collarbone to cheeks, lips worrying between teeth. “Could you…”

“Bokuto-san.” He grinds down, and wow, flesh on flesh is a million times better than before.

He was going to make a point of this, but having their cocks rub together is really challenging his ability to say anything at all, the slickness already starting to drip down his thighs making the ride smooth.

There’s minutes filled with panting, and there they are, Bokuto’s hands coming up to guide his hips into a deep wave. Bokuto’s cockhead nestles between his lips, upwards to where his dick is throbbing and Keiji jolts, whimpering.

He remembers, and brings his face in to lay his forehead against Bokuto’s, hair drooping, eyes glued to where Keiji is riding him. “What do you want?”

Bokuto takes a couple of seconds to respond, eyes working through the fog, lips slow and sweet. “Sit on my face?”

Keiji can do that.

He’s going to do that.  

Fuck.

Bokuto’s going to do that.

A stab of arousal shoots through him, a quick throb from his dick all the way up to the pit of his stomach. “Lay back.”

Kneeling over Bokuto is strange, at first, and when he’s bracing himself on the wall nearest, his mind is hit with all that nervousness he didn’t have before.

How far is too far? It’s not like he’s ever done this before. Is he supposed to actually sit–that doesn’t seem like a good idea, even if the phrase is _Sit on—_

Bokuto brings his hands to Keiji’s thighs, easing him into the motion, running them over.

Bokuto has probably no idea of what he’s doing either. That thought makes him calm down; they both have no clue.

Whatever’s going on his head is demolished by the feeling of Bokuto’s tongue lapping at his cock. Okay, maybe Bokuto has a clue what he’s doing.

That’s fantastic, it’s better than fantastic and that thing that he’s doing with his tongue is more than anything, whatever that means.  

Bokuto sucks his cock into his mouth, keeps pressure there before he bobs lightly and whether or not you’re supposed to actually sit doesn’t matter because Keiji’s legs don’t want to work anymore. Bokuto seems happy with that, more than happy, releasing his cock to lap lightly at his slick lips, before grazing one with his teeth.

A shuddering moan is all he gets before Bokuto is hoisting him up higher so he can dive right in and that’s around the time Keiji’s composure–what’s left of it–crumbles.

Bokuto’s tracing the rim of his hole with his tongue, slurping sounds high in his ears, and it _should_ be gross but it’s not, it’s not and Bokuto is fucking him lightly with his tongue before coming back up to lap at his cock again.

He’s been swollen and throbbing for a while now so he’s expecting to go off in no time, but he isn’t expecting another slap, one delivered to the reddened and sensitive skin of his ass, that has him right on that thin edge where he swears he’s coming, but he’s not because he needs a little more, just a push—

A hard suck and he’s gone, gone, gone. He’s eyes are shut and his hips are working to their own rhythm, riding the waves and Bokuto’s tongue like it’s the only thing that matters. Bokuto keeps him still, his arms becoming steel bands on his hips as he fucks him through it with his tongue, and the thought has him getting slicker and dripping more.

Keiji doesn’t know how long he stays there, aftershocks jostling his hips, one hand braced on the wall, another sinking his short nails into Bokuto’s arm. When did that happen?

Debating whether or not he has the strength to move back, Bokuto does it for him, settling Keiji further back until he’s sitting on his chest.

The bottom half of his face is slick and shiny and there’s a deep curl of contentment in Keiji’s gut at the mess and the pleased look in Bokuto’s eyes.

Keiji clears his throat, “I’d say it’s your turn but I’m going to need a minute. I don’t think my legs want to cooperate.”

Bokuto’s voice is airy, molasses. “Ah, thats. That’s fine. I’m-uh, good. Already.”

It doesn’t compute in Keiji’s head until he cranes his neck around to see another kind of mess on Bokuto’s stomach, white splattered over his abs, cock starting to deflate.

* * *

Alright, so maybe Keiji wants Bokuto to hold him down.

And to make Bokuto come without any sort of touching. Again.  

He’s been through this type of reveal before.

Keiji can handle it.

Right?

**Author's Note:**

> You can come yell at me on:  
> [Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ivyfics)  
> [NSFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/lilacsparklr)  
> [Tumblr ](http://ivyfics.tumblr.com/)


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